Memories

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Here goes nothing MissElaineUsMusings

How do I start? Will anyone read this? Who really cares about the inner workings of my soul? I’m not sure I do. So let me begin. I’m a 54 year old, almost 55 wannabe writer, avid book reader, British Royal Family expert and not really good at anything else. I’ve failed at just about […]

via Whitey Bulger — MissElaineUsMusings

How do I start? Will anyone read this? Who really cares about the inner workings of my soul? I’m not sure I do. So let me begin. I’m a 54 year old, almost 55 wannabe writer, avid book reader, British Royal Family expert and not really good at anything else.

I’ve failed at just about everything I’ve ever tried. I have bi polar and anxiety disorder. I haven’t been that great a mother, something I really wanted to be good at, a lousy wife- twice, a selfish daughter and a let down as a sibling. I live in my head. It’s a scary place when it’s not dwelling in an imaginary world where I am perfect and so is the world. I have been to the bottom of the snake pit and flown a Lear jet thru the highest mania. That’s who I am.

Thats not who I want to be. I want to be regular. Normal. Boring. But my attempts at boring usually end in disaster. My fantasy life is much better. I am a princess, a highly acclaimed person, a normal mother who doesn’t get the urges to be felonious. My fantasy life sometimes creeps into normal like and it always ends with criminal charges, hospitalizations and a lot of explaining to do.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m funny. I’m witty. I know big words. I know trivia that will fool you into thinking I’m a genius. I’ve also been beaten, had a gun held to my head and evaded the police in the name of love. I was so deranged I thought this was love and loyalty and deserved.

Im a little better now. I take my meds and have a fear of getting in trouble. I’ve tried to make amends. The thing about amends is, you can make them, they don’t have to be accepted.

As usual, I don’t know where I’m going with this, this is just my most honest explanation of who I think I am. Today. We’ll see who I wake up as tomorrow.